Just Another Stranger
by rachhudson
Summary: He tries to meet her gaze, but she just brushes by him, like she brushes by everyone. Like he's just another stranger. He gets the message. He's not good enough to be acknowledged by her anymore.


**Just Another Stranger**

i.

As he looks at the little tiny baby through the glass, he wonders how the hell he's supposed to walk away. He knows that Shelby will take good care of her, and that she'll be loved, and that he'll know his daughter because of the open adoption, but it won't be the same. He wants to sing her to sleep every night, wants to comfort her when she cries. He wants her to be a daddy's girl, wants to watch Quinn rock her to sleep.

And Quinn. What's going to happen to them after they give up their baby? He wants to believe that they'll be okay, after the talk they had a couple of days ago. (_"Did you love me?" "Yes. Especially now."_) But he has this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that once Beth is gone, the one true thing connecting them all these months, Quinn will leave as well. And he can't take that. When he said he loved her (_loves _her), he meant it.

He rubs his forehead, studying Beth, everything from her tiny little fingers to her tiny little nose. _Quinn's_ nose.

He feels a pang in his chest. He hopes Beth knows that he loves her, that he'll always love her. No matter what happens, nothing could ever change that.

* * *

ii.

He hasn't seen Quinn since she got out of the hospital, and that was a week ago. He's tried texting and calling and IMing her, but she never picks up, never answers. She's ignoring him. He thinks he deserves to know why.

He drives over to her house in silence, alone with his thoughts. He doesn't turn on the radio. He just focuses on his thoughts and Beth and it still hurts so _much_. He stares at the road and just concentrates on getting to Quinn's house. He _needs _to talk to her. He needs to know that they'll be okay.

He pulls into her driveway and barely puts the car in park before he jumps out and races up the sidewalk. He rings the doorbell, praying that she appears on the other side of the doorway.

Quinn opens the door, and when she sees it's him, her gaze falls to the ground. "Hi," she says quietly.

"Hi?" he asks incredulously, staring at her in disbelief. "I've been calling and texting and facebooking you for _days _now. I didn't even know if you were _okay_, and all you can say is '_hi'_?"

She doesn't say anything, just stares at the ground.

He sighs. She looks so sad, so _broken. _He wants to reach out and touch her, but he thinks she'll shrink away or break, she looks so fragile. "You don't have to go through this alone," he says, his voice low. "I can be here for you, Quinn." He swallows. "I miss her too, you know."

She shakes her head. "Don't," she whispers. "I don't wanna do this, Puck."

"We can do this together," he insists. He can't let her push him away; he _can't_.

A tear slides down her cheek, and she looks at him for the first time since she opened the door, her eyes bloodshot. "We can't. I'm so sorry."

He feels the tears stinging his eyes as the hurt courses through his veins. "Like hell you are," he whispers. He can't look at her any more. He just wants to get away from this pain that's doubled in his chest, but he knows he won't escape it, not ever.

She just cries some more, and he walks away.

She doesn't want him. She didn't want Beth, and she doesn't want him. He never knew he could feel so _shitty_.

* * *

iii.

School starts back up and everything and nothing has changed at once. (Funny how that works.)

He goes to his classes and tries not to fall asleep, goes to glee practice and tries not to stand out too much, and goes to football practice and tries to hit his mark as hard as he possibly can. He has to take his aggression from his shitty summer out somewhere, doesn't he? Plus the new football coach seems pretty impressed. (He thinks. She's kind of hard to read.)

Jacob Ben Israel finds him in the locker room and shoves a microphone in his face, and the interview is going okay until he mentions _her _name.

"Is it true that you've been in a crippling depression because you're not over one Quinn Fabray?"

Puck scowls, reaching over to shut off Ben Israel's camera and to grab him by the shirt collar. "Whatever went on between me and Quinn is _none _of your _fucking _business," he growls. "She made her choice, and I've had to live with it, and I don't need _you _in my face reminding me how much my life _sucks_, alright?"

Ben Israel nods faintly.

Puck lets go of his collar. "Oh," he adds as an afterthought, "and if you _ever _repeat any of this to _anyone_, I will not only throw you in a dumpster, I will make sure you're in a fucking _body bag _when I do. Do I make myself clear?"

Ben Israel nods again, then scampers from the locker room.

Puck punches the locker next to him.

* * *

iv.

He thinks it wouldn't hurt so much if he didn't have to _see _her every day. She's a Cheerio again, so he sees her flouncing down the hallway in her little short skirt like she owns the place (because she does again, doesn't she?) and he tries to meet her gaze, but she just brushes by him, like she brushes by everyone. Like he's just another stranger.

He gets the message. He's not good enough to be acknowledged by her anymore.

He lets off some steam by sleeping with Santana (for the thousandth time), because even though he shouldn't, it just numbs the pain for a while. Then he sees Quinn again and feels the coolness of her cold shoulder and it starts all over again, the same pattern.

He thinks he heard one time that madness is doing the same thing over again and expecting different results. He guesses this means he's insane now.

He really wants to go visit Beth, but he's not sure how to do it. Does he just go to Shelby's house, knock on her door, and say, "Can I see my daughter?" He doubts it works like that; surely it's a little more complicated. (Plus, he really doesn't want to go without Quinn, although he's doubtful she'll _ever _want to go. Especially with him.)

* * *

v.

He does the stupidest thing he's ever done (and for him, that's saying something). He takes his mom's car, and for a moment, he has this wild crazy thought that if he can get enough money, he can get Quinn back and Beth back and they can be a happy little family. So he crashes the car into the 7/11 and tries to run off with the ATM. And now he's in juvie. (Looking back, it probably wasn't one of his better plans.)

He wonders if Quinn knows he did for her, for _them_. He wonders if she thinks of him at all.

The food here sucks and he's already been jumped in the lunch line and he _hates _it here. Some of the guys write letters home, and Puck's tempted to write one to Quinn, but he doubts she'd reply. Actually, he's almost positive she wouldn't open it but would just throw it in the trashcan, right next to his heart and any pictures of Beth. (He's already gotten a few from Shelby, so he figures she has, too.)

He can't wait to get out of here. He hopes she'll realize, in his absence, that she does miss him, does need him. That she was wrong to push him away.

He knows he's lying to himself, but he needs a ray of hope in this dark place.

* * *

vi.

He's gone for a few measly months, and she finds a new guy. Figures. He knew that the new kid with the lemon-hair would be bad news, and now he's been proven right.

He finds out when he hears Sam and Finn talking in the locker room his first day back. Sam's talking about making out with Quinn, and Puck could punch him, he really could. Too bad he's on strict probation. But if he can't fight, at least he can tell him to _back off_.

He's just about to get up and cross the room to tell Lady Lips to lay off his girl when Sam says, "Don't get me wrong, the kissing's _hot _and all, but she just… she refuses to be my girlfriend. Should… should I be worried?"

Puck stops. Quinn's refusing to date Sam? He smiles slightly to himself. Maybe he still has a chance after all. Or at least she might be open to _giving _him a chance.

He makes up his mind to find Quinn, as soon as possible. She may think she can blow him off, but she'll be sadly mistaken.

* * *

vii.

"Puck," she says evenly, closing the door to her locker, "I'm glad you're out of juvie and all, really, I am, but I can't be happy for more basic reasons than that we need you in glee."

He doesn't even try to mask his disappointment. "Quinn, are you really telling me you didn't miss me _at all_? Not even a little bit?"

She sighs, walking around him. He falls into step beside her. "I'm _saying _that I've moved on with my life, and you need to respect that. I like Sam. He may not be my Prince Charming, but right now, he's as close as I'm going to get."

"You won't even give me a _chance_," he tells her.

She stops and turns to look at him, fire in her eyes. "Noah Puckerman, I gave you a _million _chances, and you blew every single one of them. So don't even throw that in my face."

He rolls his eyes. "Okay, let me be more specific. You never gave me a chance when it counted. I told you I loved you, and I _meant it_."

She scoffs. "Even if you did, it doesn't matter now."

"Look," he says, grabbing her arm, "it _does _matter. I know you got scared that day, scared that we could raise Beth and love each other and _be happy_, and that's why you cut me off this summer. I loved you then, Quinn. And I love you now. And _nothing _you say is going to change that. I've tried changing it. It's no use. But don't stand there and tell me that what I feel isn't real."

He ends up being the one storming away, and he wonders how she seems to be the only person who can make him feel so happy and so _bad_, the only one with the power to make his day and to tear it down.

* * *

viii.

He sees the ring several weeks later. How can he not? It's _massive._ Honestly, he wants to throw up every time he sees it sparkling on her finger. Does she love him – Sam?

He frowns in disgust, then remembers that it's _Quinn_. She probably still has her walls up. She couldn't admit her feelings to Puck, so why would she admit feelings to Sam, whom she's known for only a few months? She puts up a good front.

He still can't help but wonder why she's wearing the damn ugly thing. He wonders if she knows how much it taunts him, sitting on her finger like that.

He glares at it as he walks down the hallway one day. Whenever he sees it on her finger, he immediately gets pissy. She catches him glaring, and her smile drops off her face. She makes eye contact with him briefly, and for a second, he thinks he sees regret in her eyes. But as quick as it came, it's gone, and she goes back to talking to Brittany like nothing out of the ordinary happened. They're strangers once again.

When he sees her in the hallway the next day, he glances at her ring finger out of habit. He notices the ring is gone.

He grins.

* * *

ix.

He's really on Rachel's side when she is appalled that the solo previously belonging to her and Finn is regifted to Quinn and Sam, but he doesn't oppose it because Rachel's voice is better than Quinn's. (He prefers Quinn's, actually.) He opposes it because he doesn't know how he's supposed to act all happy and great and sell the song if fucking _Sam_ gets to sing it to Quinn.

He ends up making out with Rachel (because acts of sexual deviancy are the only ways he knows how to numb the pain) when she and Finn are fighting. He's just started kissing her when he thinks of what happened the last time he made out with Finn's girl, and Quinn's face and Finn's yells of _"I'm done with you!" _cloud his mind and he pulls away.

He tells Rachel he can't hurt Finn like that again, and part of it is true. The other part of him just needs to go numb because somehow being with Rachel makes him think of being with Quinn, and that's just all sorts of fucked up.

He leaves and he wonders how he could have let himself fall this hard. He's not supposed to be hung up on any girl, especially a girl like Quinn Fabray. He's _Puckzilla_, not some pansy who turns down anyone, least of all a hot Jew like Rachel, because he can't get some blonde out of his head.

As he pulls out of Rachel's driveway, he realizes that actually, he's totally that guy now. Except Quinn's with Sam. And it's killing him.

* * *

x.

He hears the news as it circulates down the row in glee, from person to person. Santana finishes talking to Mercedes, who then turns to Puck and says, "Did you hear? Quinn quit the Cheerios."

Puck swallows. "Really? Why?"

"Apparently she _freaked _on Ms. Sylvester, saying that it was so inclusive and focused on being the best that it brought others down. So she stormed out. I always knew Quinn was feisty, but _damn_." Mercedes chuckles lightly. "She's getting to be as good at storm outs as Rachel."

Puck smiles lightly. The choir room door opens, and everyone stops talking as Quinn walks in. Her eyes are rimmed red, he notices, like she's been crying. Sam comes in a few minutes later, looking extremely uncomfortable.

They sit next to each other, but they look like they are in physical pain.

"Oh," Mercedes whispers, leaning over, "and Barbie and Ken got into a _huge _fight this morning, screaming at each other in the hallway. Apparently he's super pissed about her quitting."

Puck feels rage bubble up inside him as he turns to glare at Sam. He should support Quinn in everything she does, be there for her no matter what.

He's going to make sure he will be, because if Puck can't be, someone has to.

* * *

xi.

He follows Sam out into the hallway after glee, and right before he turns the corner, he grabs the back of his shirt and pins him against the wall.

"Puckerman, what the _hell_?"

"Just _shut up_, Evans, and _pay attention_. Do you think you can do that?"

Sam nods mutely.

Puck takes a deep breath, then says, "Evans, if you don't know when you have a good thing, then you don't deserve to have her. Can't you see she wasn't happy? She's doing what's best for her. Now, you can support that, or you can fuck off. Just…" He swallows, because he knows he can't make this about him. He has to make it about _her_. She deserves to be happy, even if it's with this dickwad. "Just don't hurt her, okay? Otherwise you'll have _me _to answer to."

Sam clear his throat. "Uh, right. Yeah. I'll be… sure to do that. Can you… can you let go of my shirt? I'm, uh... I'm late for class."

"Yeah, yeah, right," Puck says hastily, letting go of Sam and backing away. "I probably am too." (He leaves out that he rarely attends his fifth period geometry class.) "But just keep in mind what I said."

Sam nods, then turns and bolts down the hallway.

Puck sighs. He hopes Quinn will appreciate this, somehow, someday.

* * *

xii.

His phone rings, and he really expects it to be Rachel, wanting to cry about Finn some more. (He's kind of been her unofficial therapist, because he's really intent on sticking to his plan of helping out his fellow Jews.) To his surprise, Quinn's name is flashing on the screen.

He fumbles for the phone and hastily presses the 'accept' button. "Hey," he says, trying to drown out the erratic beating of his heart.

"Um, hi," she replies. Pause. "I need to talk to you. In person. Can you come get me?"

He tries not to sound too eager, tries not to focus so much on the fact that this is literally the first contact they've had in months. "Sure. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

* * *

xiii.

She gets in his truck, and then he turns to her, studying her face. She gives nothing away. She just stares straight ahead.

"Where to?" he asks.

"Can we go to the park?" she asks, her voice small.

"It's February," he points out.

She sighs. "We don't have to get out of the car, if you don't want. But I just want… somewhere familiar."

He knows she's remembering the days in April, when it first started really feeling like spring. She and Puck would sometimes get ice cream and then head to the park, swinging carelessly while they talked about nothing.

"Sure," he says. "Of course."

The drive to the park is silent. He doesn't dare turn on the radio, and he doesn't dare try to start the conversation. He knows she has a purpose, and he has no idea what it is. He decides she'll start talking when she's ready.

He parks across from the swings, turning his headlights off. He turns to her expectantly.

She still won't look at him, but she begins to speak. "Sam broke up with me today."

"That _dick_," Puck says, but Quinn starts talking again.

"I know you talked to him. He told me. That's why he broke up with me."

"_What?_ That's exactly what I told him _not _to do!"

"I know that, too," she says, catching him by surprise. "He said he could obviously see how much you care about me, and that… that he didn't want to stand in the way anymore." A tear rolls down her cheek. He wants to reach over and brush it away, but he doubts that she'd be okay with that. Plus he's afraid to move, because it might just ruin the moment.

"Maybe he's not a bad guy after all," Puck allows.

Quinn shakes her head. "He's really not. He was perfect. _Too _perfect." She finally looks over at him, and Puck's heart pounds in his chest. "The only thing wrong with him was that he wasn't _you._ And I think he saw that. I miss you, Puck. I've been scared to admit it until now, because I didn't want to admit that I _needed_ you, that I _relied _on you. I pretended that… that B-Beth was the only thing that connected us, but now I know that it's _so _much more than that. I'm sorry I blew you off. I'm _so _sorry. I thought that… that if I could keep you away, I could keep the pain away. I just made everything _worse_."

She's crying harder now, and this time Puck doesn't hesitate: He reaches over to wipe away her tears, cupping her cheek in his palm. "Hey," he says. "I… I forgive you."

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," she whispers.

"At first, I'll admit I was angry and hurt, hurt that you didn't want Beth, and hurt that you didn't want me. But I know why you did what you did, Quinn." He tilts her chin up so that she's looking at him. "And, yeah, maybe we could have gotten through everything together, but losing you made me realize that I had to do some things to be _worthy _of you, like not sleeping with other girls and being an actual _nice _person."

He smiles at her, she the corner of her mouth twitches as she hesitantly smiles back.

"I still love you, you know," he whispers.

"I love you, too." He doesn't think he's heard anything more beautiful, and he leans over and kisses her, soft and sweet and the way their first kiss (on that August day a year and a half ago) should have been, without wine coolers and cheerleading uniforms and bad intentions.

They break apart, and he just stares at her for a few seconds, committing the sight of her to memory: Her blonde hair framing her face, her mascara a little runny from her tears, her smile as genuine as that day in the hospital. He doesn't think she's ever looked more beautiful.

"Wanna go swing?" he asks her.

"It's February," she points out.

He laughs. "Touché, Fabray. But that doesn't answer my question."

In response, she opens the passenger door of his truck and climbs out, walking in the direction of the swing set. "Well?" she yells back. "Are you coming?"

* * *

xiv.

"I don't know if I can do this," Quinn says as they pull into the driveway.

"You can," Puck tells her, turning off the ignition and opening his car door. "I believe in you. And I'll be right beside you the whole time. I promise."

She gives him a half-smile, but he can tell she's still nervous. She walks around the truck and he grabs her hand as they walk up the sidewalk.

He rings the doorbell, giving Quinn's hand a squeeze. "I wanted to come here before," he tells her quietly, "when we were still strangers in the hallways, when you wouldn't look at me."

She sniffs beside him.

"But I couldn't do it. Not without you. So I'm glad you're here with me." He smiles at her reassuringly, and the door swings open.

"Oh, good, you're here!" Shelby says warmly. "Come in, come in! I'm sure you're anxious to see her. Just let me go get her up from her nap."

They awkwardly sit down on Shelby's leather couch and survey their surroundings. Puck notices a few books and Barbies scattered on the floor, and he can't believe he's about to see his little girl for the first time in eight months.

"She probably hates us," Quinn whispers worriedly next to him, practically wringing his hand.

"She doesn't," he tells her, pressing his lips against her forehead.

Shelby reemerges with Beth, propped on her hip, and she makes her way to the couch, sitting down gently beside Puck. "Do you want to hold her?" she asks quietly.

Puck nods. He's lost his ability to speak at the sight of his daughter. She's so _beautiful_.

Shelby places her in his outstretched arms. He studies her, wanting to memorize everything about her: Her blonde curly hair, her dark green eyes, and her nose. _Quinn's _nose.

"I better go get a bottle ready," Shelby says, getting up. "Think you'll be okay with her for a few minutes?"

"Yeah," Puck murmurs, his eyes never leaving Beth's face. "We'll be fine."

Shelby leaves, and Puck turns to Quinn. "Open your arms," he tells her gently.

She looks at him with fear in her eyes. "I don't think I can."

"Babe, you _can_."

She sighs and does as she's told. He places Beth in her arms, and he sees her relax, sees her melt at the sight of the beautiful thing they created. "Hey," Quinn coos softly. "Remember me?"

Beth watches her curiously.

"Probably not, but that's okay. I love you. I hope you know that. And that guy who was holding you a few minutes ago? He loves you, too. More than you will _ever _know."

Puck feels tears sting his eyes because it's just so _perfect_. "She's beautiful," he murmurs, tentatively running his hand across her blonde curls.

"She has your eyes," Quinn says.

"She has your nose. I like your nose."

Quinn giggles. They admire their daughter for a few minutes before Quinn says, her voice soft, "We did the right thing, didn't we?"

He nods. "Yeah, I think we did."

She takes a deep breath in, then says, "I think we did, too."

* * *

xv.

He still vividly remembers the days when Quinn would brush past him in the halls without so much as a word, the days when he'd steal glances at her during glee rehearsal. He's glad those days are far behind him and they're both moving on – together.

He's glad they aren't strangers anymore.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading this Quinn/Puck oneshot. (: I hope we get to see some of them in the back half of season two!**

**If you read my Sam/Santana story "Anywhere But Here," you might have recognized the Sam/Quinn scenario as well as the words Puck said to Sam, because I kind of wanted the stories to correlate, I guess. Haha. **

**If you could leave a review, that'd be lovely! (:**


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